The countdown reaches zero
and the fireworks pop
champagne is flowing,
the celebration won’t stop.
Cheers grow silent
all around the room
as kisses are shared
banishing last year’s gloom.
I sit back and observe
knowing this is not for me
and thinking that next to you
is where I’d rather be.
Molding feelings into words
is something I can do
which is why it’s odd
that the way I feel for you
is entirely a mystery
of which I haven’t got a clue.
I remember your strength
in a way everyone could see
and for the longest time
you were who I wanted to be.
I can see your strength now
in a way almost no one can see
and I know without doubt
you’re stronger than I could ever be.
The backbeat calls out,
accentuating your eyes;
music of your soul.
Quill to ink
ink to paper
and repeat
just to meek out
a story from within
dying to escape
and run rampant
on the page
which once ran rampant
in my mind.
I wrote you a love letter
but alas, it was never mailed,
instead addressed to myself
if ever our love had failed.
I opened a letter just today
written in my own hand
that sent a blow to my heart,
ripping each and every strand.
The guy in red
needs to bring a treat
if he hopes for peace
if ever we should meet.
No man will come to my house
whether he bears gifts or not
and sneak down my chimney
like a common thief to be shot.
So the only thing to stop you,
from meeting my claws,
would be to bring a fish,
choose well, Santa Claus.
The sleigh pushes through the slush,
a destination not too far ahead,
will the frigid air freeze our core
and fill our chills with dread?
I’d like to think that will not be
and that our love can keep us warm
but until we reach that fiery warmth
only love can keep us from harm.
Rattling around in the far reaches of my brain
is the nagging reminder that today
there is so much to do and so little time
in which to properly convey
those three little words that are meant for you
that no matter what, I will not forget to say.
I hope you know the pain you’ve caused,
although I can’t imagine you do,
since the only pain that you can see
is that which you go through.
I don’t deny it must be bad,
looking in the mirror each day
and facing who you are inside
and pretending that’s okay.
Autumn Siders 